The Power of Love
by the13thgraduate
Summary: Sequel to 'The Power of Hate'; 'The Power of Love' delves into the witches side of things. What is their dark history? Will they return to earth? And if they do, will they let hate guide them, or love? But most importantly- Will there be a War of the Immortal vs the very Mortal? Read and find out.
1. Chapter 1

Some time back I wrote a story in the Bewitched section, titled 'The Power of Hate.' Well, this is it's sequel, or companion piece. It will be cut into 3 or 4 parts, chapters. Now, it took me some time, but I managed to get it together this far. Now I admit there may be spelling errors and such, but I hope I can be forgiven for such a grievance. I also want to thank those who read 'Hate' and are still willing to read 'Love.'

*Special note* This story does have some religious undertones to it, which is not meant to be offensive.

* * *

 **The Power of Love**

PART 1

In a suburban New York state bar, Darrin sat on a stool by the counter. His bartender, Joe, a balding man in his fifties just stared at him, amazed, "All these years Darrin… you told me you were married to a witch! I thought you meant _bitch_! But no, you really meant _witch_ , which means… you were married to a witch!"

Darrin looked up, a glazed look in his dark brown eyes, "Thank you for enlightening me Joe, now I want another drink. Make it a double."

The man kept wiping down a glass, shaking his head, staring at Darrin in disbelief, "Anytime you pissed her off-" He paused in wiping the glass only to snap his finger, "Bam! You're a goner!"

As he continued talking and wiping the glass, Darrin rolled his eyes, "Fine. Don't get me that double. Yap all you like."

Darrin slowly wobbled out of his stool, his trousers and buttoned down blouse disheveled and wrinkled, as if he hadn't changed his clothes in weeks. He had grown a 5 O'clock shadow, something which would take the average man a day or two to grow, but took him a week. His stringy, black hair was uncombed and all over his head. His eyes blood shot, his back bent as if he had been carrying the weight of the world on his broad shoulders. He looked a mess. And anyone who got three feet near him could smell the now 'expected' new scent of Darrin Stephens- staled alcohol.

It had now been a year and eight months since Sam and Tabitha disappeared from the earth, or as the witches referred to it, 'the mortal plane'.

Which means, Darrin had been alone for close to two years.

Staring down at him from above, in a viewing portal in a large, charcoal black cauldron, was his beautiful wife, Samantha. She was in her traditional black witch robe, complete with long flowing arm sleeves and a high collar. And if one looked closely enough, there was a dark green, almost glittering outline to her robes.

She sighed, the pain evident in her eyes as she looked up to her mother, Endora. Endora was also in her traditional purple and green witch robes, her fiery red hair seeming to glow in this other dimension, her blue eyes sparkling just like Samantha's, for this dimension was feeding their immortal blood, energizing them.

Samantha told her mother sadly, "I must go to him again, mother. Look at him. He needs me."

Her voice echoed almost dreamily, falling way into the clouds that surrounded them.

Endora merely rolled her eyes, "Derwood does look more pathetic than usual."

Samantha just kept staring down at her husband through the portal, "He's suffering, mother."

Endora coldly looked at her daughter, "Let him."

Samantha's head snapped up, "What did you say?"

"I said 'Let him.'" Endora announced, "It is no concern of ours what fools these mortals are. Let him and his whole damn race suffer."

"Mother!" Samantha half shouted, half yelped, "How could you say such a thing?! He's Tabitha's father! He's my husband! He's a good man!"

Endora rolled her eyes, "Now come off it, Samantha. Has your love for that pitiful mortal blinded you to the atrocities they have done in our name? The Salem Witch Hunt, 17th century Victorian England when they burned us at the stake and now this! But this, this has been by far the worst! If we go back, they will kill us, Samantha. And further more, they **_want_** to do it!"

"I don't care, I must go back-" Samantha told her mother defiantly.

Endora's eyes raised, "Bite your tongue!"

Instantly Samantha stopped speaking, and Endora told her slowly, "Have you forgotten about the dark matter?"

Samantha lowered her eyes.

How could she forget?

Dark matter was a magical element on earth which could be used to kill a witch- if it fell into the wrong hands.

As if on cue, her identical looking cousin Serena walked to them. Her eyes glistening, her high pitched sing-songy voice echoing, "Hey cuz! Hello, Aunty-Poo! Checking in on the enemy, I see!"

Endora growled, rolling her eyes, "I am not your 'Aunty-Poo'."

Samantha soon chimed in, "And they are _not_ our enemy!"

Serena laughed hollowly, "Of course you'd say that, cuz!" Her voice dropped a dangerous octave, "You mated with one of 'em."

Samantha's eyes widened as she sucked in her breath. Endora could feel her daughter about to do something she might regret later and soon made her voice loud and clear, "Careful, Serena… do not forget that the result of such a union is still my granddaughter… or I may have to remind you none too kindly."

Serena opened her mouth as if to shoot out a clever, little remark, only to instantly shut it when Endora's eyelids snapped back in a silent dare that only the completely stupid would challenge. And luckily, Serena wasn't completely stupid. She closed her mouth, thinking better of it and simply shrugged off to her cousin and aunt, "Please, I need no more reminding! Ta-Ta, for now!"

As soon as she popped out, Endora turned to Samantha sharply, "I don't even want to begin with _that_ witch!"

Samantha said firmly, "Then let's start with you. Mother, you must open your eyes and realize-"

Endora waved her hand dismissively, "Samantha, it's over. We left the mortal plane. Let it stay that way."

"I will not!" Samantha said in a voice that almost sounded like a shriek, "I love Darrin and he loves me back and I can't bear to watch Tabitha grow up without her father any more than I can bear the thought of Darrin missing out on her childhood!"

Endora shrugged, "Tabitha will hardly miss her father and I doubt Dobbin will even know he's missing anything!"

"Mother, he's missing _everything_!" Samantha pleaded, gesturing wildly with her hands, "Don't you understand that?"

"Honestly Samantha," Endora spoke truthfully, with a sigh, "I don't understand you. Why you would settle for a mortal when you can have the cream of the crop of handsome warlock men? And I don't understand Doofus. Half the mortal men I know would die of absolute fright if they found out their wife was a witch. The other half would choke on their own greed as they asked for their spouse to twitch up a new, comfortable life for them. But you managed to pick the one mortal man on earth who just wanted a regular, hum-drum life!"

"Mother," Samantha said patiently, hoping her mother would understand, "that's why I chose Doofus." After a pause, Samantha shook her head and quickly corrected, "I meant **Darrin**!"

Endora smirked, "Sure you did." As soon as she popped out, Samantha groaned and disappeared into a pinkish, purplish cloud. She reemerged from a bluish- greenish looking fog. As she floated in, she noticed the warlocks and witches of this part of the dimension suddenly stopped talking. She didn't need to strain her ears or read lips to tell what they were whispering to each other.

It was the simple fact that she had married Darrin.

And some despised her for it.

Others pitied her.

And a select number were amused by the thought.

Uncle Arthur was a part of that group. He emerged, drink in hand, wearing a striking yellow striped suit with a baby blue collar. He said loudly, "Sammy! There you are! Tell me, what do you think about my new suit? Has more lines than a silent picture, don't it?" He then burst out laughing at his own joke while several onlookers curled their upper lips in disdain. Meanwhile, Arthur laughed loudly, "Get it? More lines?! Sometimes I just kill myself!"

Suddenly a mirror appeared, and Arthur's reflection took a gun out of his striped breast pocket ant "shot" her uncle with a loud BAM. The mirror cracked into several pieces before falling into a puddle of shards of glass, and the frame falling with it. Arthur than choked out, "That guy!" He pointed at the remains of the mirror, "I love him to pieces!" He then laughed harder, "Get it, Sammy?! Pieces?! The mirror broke into pieces!"

Sam twitched up a broom and dustpan, using her magic to sweep the shards of mirror into the dustpan as she glared at her uncle, very aware how everyone had all eyes on them, "Uncle Arthur, honestly!" With the pieces now collected, she snapped her fingers and the full length mirror was intact, good as new, and complete with Arthur's reflection. She handed Arthur the full length mirror, eyeing his reflection for any foul movements as she hissed, "Pull yourself together and try not to break anymore mirrors, we have enough bad luck! And besides, I need to talk to you."

Arthur snapped the mirror away, trying to resemble some sense of seriousness, "I'm all ears." Before she could say another word, Arthur had popped ears all over his face and burst out laughing again.

Without missing a beat, Sam popped a giant megaphone in her hand and shouted out to Arthur, "So now that you have no excuse not to hear me- I need to speak with you!"

The sound instantly made Arthur zap the ears away, but his hands flew to his temples as he gurgled out, "Holy Mary, Rhoda and Ted, don't ever do that again! I got a ringing in my head and a splitting headache!"

"Don't you dare split your head!" Sam warned, popping away the megaphone.

Arthur rubbed his chin, "Wasn't thinking about that, but it is a good idea."

Sam grabbed his arm and soon pulled him aside, urgently whispering, "I want to go back to earth, but I don't think mother will help me out this time."

"Why go back there? You gotta death wish, Sammy?" Arthur asked, the thought of returning to such a hostile place paling his face.

"I need to go back for Darrin."

Arthur burst out laughing, "Th-That's a good one! Tryna oneup yer old Uncle Arthur, that's a good girl!"

Sam's firm voice cut the space around them, "I'm serious."

Arthur abruptly stopped laughing and soon stared at his favorite niece as if she had three heads, "Samantha, you can't. Does Endora know what you're up to? Don't you remember," he licked his lips in agitation, "last time? It took a combination of powers to send you back to say your goodbyes to your mortal spouse, and that was it! There was never gonna be a next time! We all agreed on that! And me and Clara had to talk yer folks into helping us open a bridge to send you back for a snippet of time! Now it's not our fault that instead of telling Darrin the truth you decided to let the fool boy hope by promising to return! Because you aint returning! None of us are- ever. This is our home now, so… so lighten up!"

At that moment he snapped his fingers and expected a lighter, but none came. He snapped again, but again nothing.

Sam sighed, seeing the confusion on his face, "Uncle Arthur, I know you are using humor to soothe your fears, but I can't humor you in this. Not only do I need Darrin, but we need to go back home. I have gone with all of you far enough, believing you had a plan other than to run, but I see now you don't. None of you do. And in case you have forgotten-" She gently placed a hand over his so that he could stop snapping his fingers as she softly continued, "-we are tied to that plane. We have our reserve magic for now, but we might as well be batteries. Once it runs out, we lose our magic and we are stuck out here to perish. And this isn't a future, Uncle Arthur. It's a death sentence. And if you won't help me go back for sentimental reasons, than listen to the practical ones- we need the mortal plane to replenish our abilities."

Arthur looked up at her, "Why?"

"Have you already forgotten? It gives us our powers to begin with."

"Sammy," he said in a panicky voice, "I think I tapped out my power here."

"Don't worry Uncle Arthur," she said hollowly, looking up at the vastness of the space around them, "soon we will all be tapped out, and then we will be forced to go back to earth."

"We'll need a plan!" He said loudly, "We can't just show up! In our weakened state they can forget dark matter, they can kill us with bullets!"

She then looked him in the eye, "So will you help me talk to mother? She is one of four powerful witches who can take us all back."

"Your damn right I will!" He said hurriedly, "But she won't listen to us alone! We need to talk to Maria-"

"She prefers to be called Mary-" Sam cut in, but Arthur cut her off, "Whatever the hell her name is now! We need her, Hagatha, Clara, Enchantra, Maurice, you name it! Let's get the whole witches council on board!"

"Now you want to help me?" She seemed unsurprised, but pleased.

Arthur nodded, "My magic isn't my life, but my jokes are. And it seems to me that without the accompaniment of exploding mirrors, ears and large flame lighters," He gulped, lowering his voice to a rather loud whisper, "there's the possibility I may not be funny!"

She feigned shock, "You don't say?!"

He nodded, his face twisted in distraught, "And to think of all the laughs I brought along with me wherever I went!"

"Well, to be fair, not too many people outside the family 'got' your jokes."

He snapped at her, "Not them! Me! I laughed a whole bunch at how funny I was! Now quit yapping and start zapping! We need to see Clara- pronto! While we're still witches!"

And she took ahold of his shoulders and in one quick blink of an eye, they were gone.

()()()

At the Stephen household, Darrin stared into his backyard, hoping for a sign of Sam just like that day when he was tending her rose garden. And he sat, and he waited for another encounter. Behind him, in the streets, he ignored the soldiers. He ignored the tanks. He ignored the ignorance.

He gripped his wedding ring like a drowning man would grip a life preserver.

"Come back to me, Sam." He mumbled.

Meanwhile, out on the streets of Morning Glory Circle, one could hear a drill sergeant and his platoon shout out a cadence:

 _Momma, momma can't you see,_

 _What the Army's done to me!_

 _I use to date beauty queens,_

 _Now I love my M16!_

()()()

"Oh, no you don't, Samantha." Clara shook her head, polishing a handsome doorknob until shined as if it were made of glass, "Endora, Arthur, and a few less powerful witches could send you back for a moment, but all of us re-re-returning is preposterous! The mortals will know-"

" _How_ do they know!?" Samantha shouted, "That is a question I would like answered!"

"And I want a few things answered myself!" Arthur interjected loudly before dropping his voice and saying speedily, "Like You gotta restroom on this cloud? Usually I'd zap away such little trivialities but with my powers all tapped out-"

Clara paused, blinking for a moment before nodding, "I think so, Arthur." She turned to her bag and umbrella, instructing them, "Show Arthur the way, please." Immediately Arthur followed both of them into an orange mist, his shadow fading with each step he took.

Samantha turned to her aunt, desperate, "Aunt Clara, what happened?"

"The siren sang, and we left."

"Explain this to me again please?"

"S-Sam- antha, I explained when you were a little witch-"

Sam cut her off, "I thought it was just a story! I didn't know such a thing could actually happen!"

Clara asked slowly, "Well, what do you recollect of the story I used to tell you before bedtime?"

At this Samantha shrugged helplessly, "I was a child. I only remember you saying that one day The Eternal will decide to suddenly let all the mortals who have ever come into contact with a witch to know what they are and any spells casted over them."

Clara nodded, a ghost of a smile on her lips, "Good, good. And what else?"

Sam started off, unsure, "Witches were afraid of the mortal's reaction. We feared they would try to harm us, so we created the siren song, for all of the witches to know to regroup here, on this plane. And that was why, in the dead of night, I knew I had to leave, and take Tabitha, and-" her voice lowered, "leave Darrin."

Clara said simply, "Good thing too. Here, he would have died instantly."

"Whereas we die slowly." Samantha bitterly interjected.

Clara paused, her eyes on Samantha with sympathy, "You do miss that young man of yours, don't you?"

"With all my heart." Samantha answered honestly.

"And Tabitha?"

"She misses Darrin too, but it's different. I told her that we and the other witches are on a vacation, and eventually we will return, where she'll see Darrin again."

Clara nodded, "The girl can't miss what she doesn't know she's lost. Good for now, Samantha. Bad for later, when she begins to suspect the truth."

"I'm hoping we won't reach such a point and that everyone will come to their senses and we can return to earth."

Clara began polishing her doorknob again, "A-And I suppose the mortals will suddenly come to their senses too? After many vain wars, including two of world war proportions?"

Samantha said firmly, "I said 'everybody', didn't I?"

Clara paused once more, a hopeful ghost of a smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eye, "Oh Samantha, your never-ending optimism and desire to do what is right has always made you a favorite of mine."

Samantha smiled, a twinkle in her own eye, "Right back atcha, Aunt Clara."

At this Clara's smile broadened and she nodded firmly, with a renewed sense of purpose, "Alright. If we are to go back home and figure out what has happened, we must go to The Ancient Book at once!"

They were about to pop out before Samantha suddenly remembered something. She called out, "Uncle Arthur! Hurry up! We're leaving!"

Off in the not-so-far distance they heard his agitated voice, "I hate this damned contraption Clara calls an umbrella! I asked for a restroom, it leads me to an underground cavern! I was attacked by bat-like creatures!"

"What?" Sam asked, her face the picture of confusion.

Clara shrugged, "M-Must've been the vampires. Anywho, let's wait a moment for Arthur and then we'll pop out, dear."

Samantha's face lightened, "Vampires? Are real?"

With a twinkle in her eye, Clara smiled, "Of course they are. As real as a witch. You know Samantha, you have just had-had your feet planted too squarely in-in-in the mortal world too much to forget such a trivial fact. Anyway, I'm- I'm sure Arthur must've just bumped into the Draculas, perfectly alright. That happens to me myself sometimes, since their always _hanging_ around."

"Damn things bit me!" Arthur growled, rubbing his neck, "I hope I don't need a rabies shot after this! Without my powers I'm as helpless as a-" His face cringed horribly, "-a **_mortal_**!"

"Calm down, Uncle Arthur. Now Aunt Clara, what does the book say?"

The three were in a room surrounded by red curtains, above them the stars were both dying and just being born. The cosmos stretched out millions of miles to nothingness, and mortal time meant absolutely nothing. Well, except for Samantha who felt she was running out of it. She turned to Aunt Clara who was holding a frail, tattered brown book. However, it was the smallest thing Samantha had ever seen. Clara needed special witch glasses with giant lenses that were about the size of her head to read the Ancient Witch dialect.

Arthur rolled his brown eyes sarcastically, "Oh please Sammy, I'll tell you what it says! It reads in teeny-tiny lettering- DON'T SNEEZE!" He then burst out laughing, "Get it? Don't sneeze? Oh, I still got it!"

Sam simply glared at her comedic uncle, "Oh, honestly!"

Clara ignored them, concentrating on decrypting an ancient language that she had only used in her early years. Finally she nodded, whipping off the giant, magnifying glasses, "This is quite troubling, Sam-Samantha."

Sam dared ask, "How?"

Aunt Clara looked her dead in the eye, "The book predicts everything."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Will it predict when we'll get out of this place? It's spooky!" He looked up, to find a dark hole growing right over his head, "Gazooks! Look at that! Seen those things a million times and they never get old."

Sam glanced up, in time to see the dark hole consume miniature planets in a single beat. She had to admit, "It is a bit unsettling."

Clara turned to Arthur trying to get the second oldest witch in their trio to understand, "Where do we come from, Arthur?"

Arthur jumped at the sound of thunder pounding all around the red room, "I don't know! I just know that I was!"

Clara turned to Samantha, hoping she would know. After all, Endora's daughter was always very bright and perceptive, "Where do we come from, Samantha?"

Before Samantha had time to open her mouth, Arthur jumped in, "She came from Endora, bless her heart."

Samantha rolled her eyes, irritated, but Clara nodded, a grandmother-ish smile on her face, "Yes. Exactly. Samantha is a second generation witch. We, myself and you, Arthur; Endora and Maurice, and the elders, are all first generation."

Arthur blurted out, "Then why I am young and studly and you're-" Clara shot him a look and he quickly recovered, "old- fashioned."

"The first generations came in waves, Arthur." Clara clarified, "Three to be exact. I came in the very first wave, Endora, Maurice and most of your other uncles and aunts the second, Arthur and a few stragglers came in third."

"Aunt Clara, this doesn't make any sense." Samantha shook her head, "What are you talking about?"

Clara's eyes darkened, "Our origins… are evil, Samantha."

She paused. Endora alluded to such when she was very young, but absolutely refused to speak of it. So, she knew there were dark roots, but she didn't know how far they stretched or exactly what they were. But, given the mortals history & mythology, she could guess.

She didn't like her guess, but she said it anyway, "Devil worshippers?"

Slowly, Aunt Clara turned her cheek, a silent affirmation of Samantha's suspicion. But Arthur was not having it, "Wait a second here! I don't remember worshipping anything like that! I am a warlock of simple tastes! I enjoy a good hot foot and fake vomit as much as the next guy, unless of course the next guy is Richard Nixon, but-"

Clara interrupted him, "The Eternal made man, in his image. The Darkness, which had lost its war against The Eternal, twisted such an image and created us."

"Aunt Clara, forgive me, but I don't understand-"

"Samantha, the very first wave of the first generation remembers. We weren't always witches. I mean, look at us."

Sam took a step back. Aunt Clara looked just like any other elderly woman. With light hair, a motherly warmth, a confused yet sharp as a tack mind… and Uncle Arthur looked like any man. Tall, brown hair, brown eyes, an infectious laugh…

And then it hit her. In a whisper, she acknowledged it,

"We're… we were once… _human_. We were once..." She then whispered the word, "mortal. "


	2. Chapter 2

**PART 2**

"Samantha, the very first wave of the first generation remembers. We weren't always witches. I mean, look at us."

Sam took a step back. Aunt Clara looked just like any other elderly woman. With light hair, a motherly warmth, a confused yet sharp as a tack mind… and Uncle Arthur looked like any man. Tall, brown hair, brown eyes, an infectious laugh…

And then it hit her. In a whisper, she acknowledged it,

"We're… we were once… _human_. We were once mortals. "

Arthur snapped, "Never!" But the room boomed of thunder, and he instantly shut his mouth.

Clara continued, "I remember… when I was a little girl. I could recite the alphabet from Alpha to Omega."

Arthur just couldn't accept it, "I don't believe it. How can I? I don't remember being a little girl! I-I mean, _boy_."

Clara continued, "Does not change facts, Arthur. We were recruited as agents of chaos and forces of darkness. Those that survived the rituals were granted powerful gifts by the darkness, and all it requested was that we lead man astray, that we prove his creation was flawed… by joining the darkness."

Clara seemed so solemn, and quiet. Arthur asked her, "Why would we join it? We're not bad people. We're good inside… right?"

The old witch shrugged, "I don't know why you joined, Arthur. We all have different reasons… all I know is that very few of the first wave survived. Those that did, all had one thing in common- fear of death. We were all afraid, young things. And we remembered our lives before. I don't think we were supposed to. It seemed to anger The Darkness. When it tried once more to create new soldiers for its army, it had learned from its mistakes. The first person from the second wave that I had met was a young a man. He remembered nothing at all from his previous life, other than he felt he had been extravagantly wealthy. But when I saw his hands, with light scars and callouses, his rough English accent and his subconscious knowledge on how to fend for himself, I suspected he was in fact a poor, orphaned youth. Perhaps that was how The Darkness lured him in, with the promise of wealth. So, a few from the first wave, now with hundreds of years of experience, took him under our wing. He called himself… Maurice."

"My daddy?" Samantha asked, overwhelmed, "He's such a gentleman."

"Do you remember Endora?" Arthur asked.

Clara nodded, sighing, "Oh, yes. Young, and angry, full of rage. She had an instant distrust of men, and an unparalleled disdain for women. She enjoyed the suffering of others and for that The Darkness rewarded her with great powers, far greater than anyone in her class."

"Why was mother like that?" Samantha asked quietly, the thunder surrounding them slowly ebbing away.

Clara thought for a moment before allowing herself to say, "I believed Endora may have been an abused youth. Others that were converted with her stated that she had nightmares when she slept, and would awake, weeping. She had bruises all over her body, terrible scars. And when Enchantra asked her if she ever wondered if she had a mother, Endora responded that she knew she never had one. But for some reason, I feel she did, but the woman didn't defend her daughter the way she should've been defended."

Samantha didn't know what to say. This was a revelation of her mother she never suspected. Her mother, strong willed and powerful, ever present and resourceful, a force to be reckon with, was once a frightened, mistreated, little girl.

Her thoughts were silenced with Arthur's hopeful voice, "Well at least some good came out of this revelation- I may not really be Endora's little brother."

Clara told him instantly, "I wouldn't think that if I were you. The Darkness reveled in luring misplaced youths, the desperate, and the wayward souls over to it's side. And then he asked them to turn around and recruit others. They usually started with those they already knew, such as friends, lovers, sisters… brothers."

Arthur stomped his foot, "Nothing but bad news today!"

"They returned to old stomping grounds subconsciously. And it was strange, watching them pass by with absolutely no recollection of their own, united in their shared love in wanting acceptance- even from Darkness."

"Aunt Clara," Samantha started, unsure of how to proceed, "I don't… I don't remember darkness. I only remember happiness, and warmth, and love." Love from her parents, who she was slowly learning were a young man who never saw a dime he earned as probably lived out in the cold streets, and a teenaged girl with boiling anger in her belly as she covered swollen bruises along her thin body. Happiness from magical abilities she always thought of as a gift from heaven, not from the other side. And warmth, warmth from all the endless aunts, uncles, and cousins her heart could desire. Growing up in such a magical community was just that- magical.

So how could she take Clara's news that perhaps not all was what it seemed?

She honestly didn't know. She still loved everyone she ever loved, she just wished that they hadn't come to be like this.

"What now?" She asked, her voice slow.

Clara turned to the tiniest book ever, "It says that The Eternal will lift the veil that the witches had kept hidden around the mortals for so long. Mortals will suddenly know all the witches they had ever come into contact with-"

"Yes, yes, yes," Arthur interrupted, "And ay spells we casted over them, we know this, Clara!"

Sam quickly recapped, "So we constructed the siren song as a warning to us, so we could flee-"

Clara blinked at her disapprovingly, "The word is 'regroup', Samantha! A witch never flees!"

"What else does that speck of dust we call a book say?!" Arthur pleaded, with a genuine sense of urgency.

"It speaks of four warning signs that will lead to the mortal's sudden awareness."

"What are the four signs that we should've seen coming?!" Samantha asked, her own sense of urgency picking up as her voice croaked.

Clara thought for a moment before saying slowly, "The first sign: _'A New World Found; An Old World Lost.'_ "

Arthur blinked, "What in the blazes is that supposed to mean? The only world mortals have been on is the moon!" He then snapped his fingers, "Oh wait- is that it?"

Sam rolled her eyes, "A moon is not a world, uncle."

Arthur then nodded, as if remembering something, "Oh that's right, and besides, the whole thing was shot on a soundstage with Kubrick."

"Uncle Arthur!" Samantha cut it, "Honestly! Mortals really did land on the moon! If you go there right this second, you will see the American flag!"

"You've been to the moon, have you seen it?" He challenged.

"Well no," Sam said slowly, "But then again, I haven't gone since I was married."

Clara shrugged, "I assumed the book is speaking of a couple hundred years ago."

Arthur turned to Samantha, saying seriously, "This old witch is really losing it, Sammy. She thinks mortals discovered the moon a few hundred years ago!"

Clara rolled her eyes at the pair before her, "Not the moon, America."

Arthur shrugged his broad shoulder, "So the Europeans discovered America, so what? I was there, and it wasn't all that exciting. They didn't have a Sears yet or anything! Just a bunch of trees and natives."

Samantha snapped her fingers, her eyes twinkling, "Arthur!"

" _ **Uncle**_ Arthur to you!" He corrected her, but she smiled broadly, "I know what Clara means! The Europeans called the Americas the New World! Don't you get it? _A New World Found; An Old World Lost_!"

"But the 'Old World' didn't go anywhere! In fact, I still live there, or I did- before all this mess! Now let's see, I have a tiny flat in England- wonderful place, with all the castles! And I have a little cottage in the rural area of France- so peaceful! And I have-"

"Arthur, we're not trying to talk about your vacation homes!" Samantha whined, turning to her aunt, "What does it mean?"

"It means Arthur has good taste. You know, I myself have a little bungalow-"

"Aunt Clara! I meant the text!" Samantha threw in, exhausted.

"Oh! Yes, yes! Now let me see…" Clara continued, snapping on the giant glasses, thinking hard. After a moment of Sam and Arthur leaning over her, Clara backed off, shrugging her aged shoulders, "Oh I can't tell what the last part of it means. _Old World Lost?_ It could be plagues, war, government… it is all so difficult to make heads or tails of such vague warnings."

"Then we will take it as the discovery of the Americas and move on!" Samantha said with a tone of finality. She then asked hurriedly, "What is the next warning sign?"

Clara soon babbled out, " _And Man Shall Touch the Skies, Turning the Planet Small_."

"I hate that ride!" Arthur blurted out, above them, a new star forming in the cosmos.

"What ride?" Samantha asked, puzzled.

" 'It's a Small World' at Disneyland!" Arthur nodded, "Gives me the creeps!"

Clara agreed, "I don't like Disneyland either. Those lines should be a crime within themselves! And there's so much security, popping ahead soon gets you caught and thrown out! Like I remember-"

"Everyone! Focus!" Sam shouted out, "I highly doubt that this next warning has anything to do with Disneyland-"

"It has to do with planes." Arthur interjected calmly.

"What in the world?" Sam asked him as he told her energetically, "Well, y'see Sammy, when the invention of planes was a hip new fad with the mortals, I took the liberty of befriending the Wright Brothers! Now, neither one had a particularly good sense of humor, so the friendship didn't really go nowhere but-"

Sam, who was half listening to Arthur and half trying to solve the sign in her head nodded, "I think I see where you're going with this! The invention of planes made for 'man to touch the skies', and by doing so, he 'turned the planet small', because now what would've originally took months to find by sea now only takes a few hours! Uncle Arthur, you're brilliant!"

Arthur shrugged, "Not so brilliant, Sammy. See, I slept with the sister and Wilbur tried to punch my teeth out, only," he started giggling, "I returned the favor!" He then whispered to Clara, "Ever wonder why they never smiled in their photos?"

"No," she started off slowly, "But I do wonder why Samantha tells everyone you're her funniest uncle. You haven't said one joke I think is funny."

Arthur's face fell, "Everyone's a critic."

Samantha urgently asked her aunt, "What's the third warning, Aunt Clara?"

Clara nodded affirmatively like a woman on a mission. After reading through the tiny text, she said seriously, " _Mars Kills in Two Acts, Venus Kisses in Between_."

Arthur paced the floor, rubbing his chin, "Mars kills in two acts? What does the planet have to do with this?"

"Or perhaps it's the a god, after all the planet was named after the Roman God of War- Mars."

"Funny," Arthur said in mock seriousness, "I never took Mars as a theatre man." He then busted out laughing, "Get it? He kills in two acts! Ha! Aren't I a laugh?!"

Clara rolled her eyes, her agitation of the warlock apparent, "Only at yourself…"

Arthur looked up, "Huh?"

Clara shook her head, "What?"

"Please you two!" Samantha pleaded, "Let's break this down now. Why would Mars kill in two acts?"

"Obviously because Venus is kissing him in between." Arthur threw out before busting out laughing.

"Oh that Venus, always one for trouble!" Clara agreed, "I-I remember one time, in the land of ancient Rome, my friend Diandra and I were-"

"Oh my stars!" Sam sighed, rubbing her temples, "We are never going to get through this, are we?"

"Now, now, now, Sammy," Arthur walked over to his favorite niece draping a protective arm over her, "Clara and I are just getting through this the best way we can! Me with my jokes, and Clara with happy memories of happier times!"

Clara blinked, "My memory with Diandra was anything but happy! She was a snake in the grass that girl! Stole my beau I believe…"

Arthur snapped at her, "Clara just go with it! Look at the poor kid here! She's irritated with us!" His head jerked to Samantha who by now had knelt to the ground, her eyelids drooping and her chin facing the ground.

Clara shrugged, "I-I just know that I had a feud with that girl and we hit the pause button, but 8 years later, it was the exact same trouble! The only difference was that we were older."

Sam suddenly snapped her head to look at Clara, her eyes wide, "That… that's it!" She then stood to her full height, explaining, "I've been going over all of it in my head and that's it!"

Arthur asked her, confused, "Clara and Diandra?"

"No!" Sam excitedly explained, her hands jumping, "Don't you see? Earlier, with the first warning, you said something about plagues, war, and government right?"

Clara nodded, but still as confused as ever, "Why yes, but I don't see how that has anything to do with anything!"

Sam then turned to her uncle, "And you said you didn't know Mars was a theatre man! But he's not!"

"I know," Arthur said, his face fixed with worry about how energetic Sam seemed all of a sudden, "That was the joke, Sammy. He loved war!"

Sam snapped her fingers, her head whipping around to both of them, "Exactly! War- in _two_ acts! But the whole thing was like with Aunt Clara and Diandra! It was the same feud but with a pause button! And what war in recent history is like that?"

"Good heavens!" Clara blinked, "How could we have forgotten the World Wars!"

"Then if it's that, answer me this, Samantha: What's with the whole _Venus kissing in between_ business?" Arthur asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"It was The Pause between the wars, Uncle Arthur." Sam continued, "Acts go on right after another, but this one didn't. It had a gap separating them. It's symbolic more than anything."

"Obviously." Arthur sarcastically quipped, "Now Clara, what's the final sign that we should've seen coming?"

After a few seconds of Clara reading and re-reading the text, she finally looked up, bewildered, "I get this one less than the others!"

"We'll figure it out Aunt Clara." Samantha assured, "Now please tell us."

Clara said gravely, " _The Blending of Blood in the House of Crowned Wreaths_."

Arthur shouted out to a fictional audience, "Has anyone been blending blood lately?!" He then turned to his niece, "What about you Samantha? Play with blood?" He then turned to Clara, "You? Anyone?"

Sam herself seemed befuddled, "I… don't understand."

"Maybe it's vampires." Arthur threw out, genuinely trying to be helpful, "Like those pesky neighbors of Clara's."

Clara shook her head, "Oh no, this is our war, not theirs. And besides… Crowned Wreaths… I know those words. I've heard them before… when I was a girl…" She paused trying to figure it all out in head despite the distraction of Arthur's constant strange guesses. As she tuned him out, she whispered, " _Crowned Wreaths…_ " She then jerked her head up, her face white and her eyes full of knowing, "How could we have been so blind?!"

Her instant change in demeanor spooked both Arthur and Samantha.

"Aunt Clara, are you alright?!" Sam asked, as Clara jerked off her glasses and dropping them inside her magical bag, her old eyes zeroing in on Samantha, "We must go, Samantha! Especially you! And we must hide the book! Nobody must know what we have just discovered!"

"Aunt Clara!" Sam cried out desperately, "What's going on?!"

"Give me the book!" Arthur shouted with half a grin, "I'll eat it and no one will be the wiser!"

"Now's not the time for your bad jokes, Arthur!" Clara snapped, her stuttering gone in a blaze of anger, "Samantha is in danger!"

 _ **No. She's not.**_

All three stopped and looked up high to the cosmos above them.

"Did anyone else hear that omnipresent voice or I am I just cracking under all this stress?" Arthur hoarsely whispered.

From the side of the rotundus hall, the dark red curtains swerved as if a giant wind had suddenly overtaken them, and each and every one fell pathetically onto the stained marble ground. Without the curtains to shield them, Clara, Arthur and Samantha were transfixed by the darkness that now surrounded them. And between a certain two Greek-like pillars, stood a pair of glowing blue eyes, filled with hate and anger, craving revenge and destruction.

The omnipresent voice rang out, " _ **No one will dare hurt my Samantha**_."

Slowly, Samantha stood a bit straighter, a familiar feeling coursing through her, one of protection and love. And then the blue eyes moved forward to reveal the face of the creature that had terrified them so, and from the shadows, emerged Endora, in all her wicked glory.

Her voice boomed out, " _ **Not while I'm around**_."

"Mother!" Sam cried out, "Why didn't you just say it was you?"

"I'll say!" Arthur snapped, wiping his sweaty forehead, shouting at his sister, "I nearly wet myself!"

Clara blinked, her usual confused look slowly letting her initial panic recede, "Endora! You scared me… almost had a heart attack…" She then told her firmly, "Don't ever do that again."

"This amazing suit was almost ruined! Did I mention that?!" Arthur shouted, trying to calm down his pulsing nerves, shrieking to no one in particular, "Just my luck! My sister be one for theatrics!"

"Just my luck my brother be one for bad comedy!" Endora snapped back before turning to Samantha, "I have been speaking to the witches' council, and we have decided that we must end this situation once and for all."

Samantha smiled a smile of relief, "Oh good! We're going back to Earth and try to get everything resolved with the mortals-"

"Not exactly." Endora paused, her eyes scanning the room before settling on the tiny book.

"Then how will we settle it?" Sam asked, her voice suddenly small. Now all of a sudden, she felt like a young little witch with all the adults around as a knowing look came across Clara's face, and finally Arthur's. While Clara looked deeply distressed, Arthur simply turned away, twisting his lips together in agitation.

And finally a bad thought occurred to Sam, "Oh mother no… you don't… you can't! You can't kill them!"

Endora stood firm, "Samantha, we must. Or, our race will die out. Together we must stand, firm, with the council and our roots."

"no." Sam whispered, unable to believe her own ears and eyes that the woman who was proposing mass genocide was the same woman who she looked up to and admired as a small child.

"We will wipe them out, every single last mortal. We have decided that it will be quick and painless-"

"No!" Samantha shouted, "I will not simply stand by and let you do this! Have you forgotten mother that I am in love with a mortal?! A mortal sired my daughter, your granddaughter! That's half of Tabitha's family tree-"

Endora said sharply, "Now it is my turn to interrupt, Samantha! We are dying here! Some of the warlocks have already reported experiencing power drains, and it won't be long before we all suffer from the same problem, and then we die here. We must go back to earth-"

"Yes!" Sam nodded.

"But we are at half strength now. And it is a long, tedious journey back home. By the time we make it to the mortal plane, our powers will be completely tapped out. And I don't doubt that by the time we reach earth, The Eternal will tell the mortals we are there. In our weaken state, they will have the jump on us, and annihilate us. What we are doing is simply surviving, Samantha, beating them before they beat us."

"NO!" Sam shouted, "Mother, this is all wrong! This is The Darkness talking! But we are more than what we came from! We are good people! We can make the choice to not do this! We can help bridge the gap of misunderstanding between us and the mortals-"

Endora's face was fixed finality, "Samantha- we are **ending** them. We should have done it long ago, but there was never a real reason for it. Now we have one."

Desperately Sam turned to her relatives, "Please!" She pleaded with them both, "One of you! Talk some sense into her!"

Arthur tilted his head sideways, his face unreadable. It was almost as if he were mulling something over in his mind.

Finally, Clara dared ask, her voice drained of all happiness, "You said it will be quick and painless, correct?"

Sam turned to her loveable aunt in disbelief. To hear such a statement from her beloved Aunt Clara was a nightmare within itself.

And then it got worse.

Her uncle's voice, reasoning that what was illogical was logical "Well, I suppose… it makes sense. Darwin did say, 'survival of the fittest'; and natural selection and all that… right?"

Sam turned to Uncle Arthur, her face the picture of shock, "What is going on with all of you? This isn't right!" She whipped around to face all three of them, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, but she would not have it, "We are not creatures on an island! We are people! We have a conscious! How could we live with ourselves if we do this?!"

"Well we won't live at all if we don't!" Arthur replied, his voice heavy and thick, "Besides, you don't think they're not doing the same thing right this instant? They tried killing my son with their bullets, Samantha! Right before we left, Henry told me! And now that our magic is leaving us, they can! And I will not let my boy die!"

Hearing these words, Clara flinched as Endora stood, silent and observing.

"They threw smoke bombs at Brunhilda." Clara stated quietly, "As soon as we regrouped here, I swear, I've never seen her so frazzled."

Samantha stared at them all in shock. Finally she spoke, directly at Clara, "You told me that witches don't flee, they regroup, right? Well, you're wrong. They do flee, like what we're doing right now. We're running away from what is right, for fear of death. Instead, we should be running _toward_ what is good, because that is the **right** thing to do. Now I suggest you all _regroup_ your thoughts and join me in this cause."

Both Clara and Arthur looked down ashamed, but Endora didn't even blink. She stayed firm, her cold eyes on her only daughter, and arguably her greatest love. With unreadable eyes, she said tonelessly, "Stephanus."

Samantha shook her head, "What?"

"It's a Latin word." Endora explained, but while Arthur looked up, genuinely confused, Clara turned her head to look away in disgrace. Endora continued, "It means 'wreath' or 'crown'."

Before Samantha could speak, Endora beat her to it, "For centuries, I have tried desperately to decrypt the warnings. I even helped construct the siren song to be the beacon for our sisters and brothers, so we could all escape safely when the time came. I could somewhat tell what the warnings were, but I was never one hundred percent sure. And then, you married the mortal."

Clara gasped in pain, her thoughts being voiced by Endora, "You are a target, Samantha. You were a part of the final warning."

"How could I have been?" Samantha asked, lost. She thought back to her marriage, her family, her home, for any clue if what her mother was saying had any grain of truth.

And then Endora said grimly, repeating the final warning sign, " _The Blending of Blood in the House of Crowned Wreaths_." She took a step toward her daughter, her eyes letting only a sliver of sympathy cross them, "It might as well read, 'The Blending of Blood in the House of Stephanus.'"

It was obvious that the truth dawned on Samantha as she said slowly, "The blending of blood… in the house of _Stephens_ …" Her eyes widened in concern, "Tabitha! Mother would she be a target for witches looking for someone to blame in this predicament!"

Endora raised her hand, "She's safe. You kept her with Hagatha and Mary, good choice. If they could raise Serena, they can watch her like a hawk. Luckily, most witches have never even glanced at the ancient text to know she is a warning sign, but precautions must be taken."

Arthur sucked in his breath, "Holy Beegeezus! How the heck did we miss that?! Blending of Blood?"

Endora turned to Clara, "Not everyone missed it."

Clara handed the tiny ancient text to Endora, "Hide it. Destroy it. I don't care, but we must keep Samantha and Tabitha safe."

"For once," Endora said calmly, "We are in total agreement, Clara." With a wave of her hand, the ancient text was gone.

Endora then turned harden eyes to her daughter, "Come, Samantha. We must prepare ourselves, for in moments, we will descend upon the mortal plane in a vengeance, and take what is rightfully ours."

"It was never _rightfully_ ours." Samantha mumbled, her sense of self shook by the recent revelation.

Endora placed a protective arm around her daughter, looking up, "Well, now it will be."

Soon, Arthur placed a hand on his sister's shoulder, Clara mirroring the action with a hand on Samantha's shoulder. Endora said loudly as the room began to spin, "We must accept our roots, so we can grow that much more powerful!"

Wind picked up in every direction, causing the red curtains on the ground to almost dance like heaving ghosts, celebrating the corrosion of their souls. Above them, the planets whirled wildly, and Endora said the chant of ancient times, something she hadn't uttered since Samantha's birth and now said again to protect her only daughter, "We are the forgotten. We are the hated. We are the nothing. We find acceptance only through The Darkness! Long Live The Darkness! Long- Live- Evil!"

On cue, as if they were now turning possessed by something completely alien from their characters, Clara and Arthur chanted, "We are the forgotten. We are the hated. We are the nothing. We find acceptance only through The Darkness! Long Live The Darkness!"

Samantha sucked in her breath, as if bracing herself for a killing blow when her relatives chanted, "LONG-LIVE- EVIL."

She couldn't deny the power of the darkness, she did feel a surge of wild energy and anticipation course through her very blood, but unlike everyone else, she could at least resist it.

And slowly Samantha looked up, her eyes full of despair and hope, as she murmured low enough so not a soul could hear as the wind whirled around them even more, surrounding the four in a tornado-like funnel.

If anyone would have heard her angelic voice, they would have heard, "Long Live Love."


	3. Chapter 3

**PART 3**

A long flowing, purple veil fell down to the cloudy ground, and revealed Endora, flanked ny Arthur and Clara, and beside them, an anxious Samantha.

The other witches in the fog stole glances at them, but most were indifferent as they silently chatted amongst themselves.

Samantha was beside herself, unsure of what to say.

And then her aunts Hagatha and Mary floated up to her. Both were elderly women, Hagatha more broad shouldered and square jawed than the elderly looking Mary. Before Samantha could open her mouth, Hagatha grabbed her hand, eyeing Endora suspiciously, "We need to talk."

Suddenly Tabitha popped in behind Mary, giggling, "Momma, my magic's growing!"

Mary nervously flashed Endora a smile, "She's a powerful witch for her age."

"She comes from a powerful family." Endora said in a monotone voice. Beside her, Clara and Arthur looked away, as if unable to look any of their friends in the eye.

Samantha was shocked, "But… how can her power be growing? This place zaps the magic right out of us."

"Nothing zaps the magic from us Samantha, as long as we say, and constantly repeat, the chant of elders." Endora told her daughter with a small smile. She then nodded down to Tabitha, "While you and Clara and Arthur were playing Sherlock Holmes, I took the liberty to teach young Tabitha the chant so she could be healthy enough to travel with us when we attacked the mortals."

Sam nearly snapped her neck at her own mother, "You did what?"

"Tabitha, demonstrate." Endora said leisurely.

Hagatha groaned, "This is what I wanted to talk to you about, Samantha."

On cue, Tabitha recited, "We are the forgotten. We are the hated. We are the nothing. We find acceptance only through The Darkness."

Samantha's eyes widened in horror at what she was hearing.

Tabitha continued, "Long Live The Darkness! Long- Live-!"

Samantha instantly clasped her hand over her daughter's mouth before she uttered the last word, her tone cold, "Don't you dare finish that sentence, Tabitha. Do you understand?"

The girl nodded slowly, a look of confusion on her face.

Slowly, Samantha lowered her hand from her daughter, and instructed her, "Go play with some young witches, Tabitha. I need to have a chat with your grandmother and aunts."

Confused, Tabitha nodded, but she obeyed her mother and popped out. As soon as she was gone, Samantha lost it, "Are we all losing our minds here?!" Before anyone could answer, she growled at her mother, "If you ever teach my daughter anything like that again, I'll ban you from seeing her."

Endora looked mildly amused, "Would you now?"

Samantha's voice had a sharp edge to it, "Yes."

"You don't understand, Samantha." Endora told her, "That chant gives us strength. Arthur can now use his magic if he wanted to, and Clara's would be sharper than ever."

"I don't care what it does, it's wrong!" Samantha shouted, her voice cracking, "Mother how many times have you said that chant?"

"Since we've been here? Countlessly!" Endora pronounced proudly, "And each time it gets easier than the last!"

Samantha lowered her voice, "Mother, don't you see that it's brainwashing you? The more you say it, the more you believe it! The more you believe it, the more power you give to The Darkness!"

"Nonsense!" Endora cackled, "I feel as fine as the day I was born, in that forest, so many centuries ago. When I accepted the darkness inside myself, I had finally past the final test to become a witch."

Hagatha licked her lips, "Samantha, I feel it too. Around us, The Darkness is growing."

Mary agreed, her hands trembling, "It's like an addiction, once a witch says it, they need to say it more so they can have a power surge!"

Samantha turned around sharply and faced Clara and Arthur, "We need to stop this. You know in your heart this is a disgrace as to who we are as a people!"

Arthur slowly walked up to her, nodding his head, "I agree with you Sammy, but here's the thing…" He snapped his fingers and a cigar popped with into his hand. It was fully lit and he took a long puff from it before blowing circles into the air. He then let out a big grin, "My powers are back! Well, temporarily anyhow, but the important thing is: I'm funny again!"

Samantha glared at him coldly, "Yes, you are the biggest joke I've ever seen." She then turned to Aunt Clara, not even watching as Arthur's face fell, "Does this go for you too?"

"We didn't want to say it, Samantha, but…" She shrugged, her eyes full of sorrow, "Desperate times call for desperate measures."

Samantha then rounded on Hagatha and Mary, "Have you two said it?"

Mary looked down, looking as if she wanted to cry and Hagatha squared her shoulders and said in low voice, "Samantha, you don't understand-"

"I understand perfectly." She said, her voice iced, "I have been a fool. All these years, the mortals were right about us. We are evil, old crones!"

Endora angrily told her daughter, "You best watch that mouth of yours, Samantha!"

Samantha turned to face her mother, "Well at least it isn't praising evil!"

From the fog, emerged another witch.

All heads turned, and there she was- the mirror image of Samantha.

Hagatha blinked, "What are you doing here?"

Serena floated over, a smirk on her lips, "I wish to speak to my older…. _cousin_."

"Serena, not now!" Samantha cried out exasperated.

But Serena was determined. As soon as feet touched the cloud, she winked at Endora, "See you later, Auntie Poo!"

Endora snarled, "I am not your-"

With the most powerful witch on the cloud easily distracted, Serena quickly snagged an arm around Samantha, and before anyone could even blink, Serena had effectively popped both of them out of the cloud.

Endora quickly looked up, closing her eyes as Arthur's bewildered cry rang out, "Where'd they go?"

"Sssh!" Hagatha snapped at the warlock, "Can't you see Endora's tracking them?"

"Oh, oh right." He mumbled, fumbling with his hands awkwardly.

After a moment, Endora's blue eyes opened. She announced, "I lost them. Serena is faster than I thought."

Mary smiled proudly, "I taught her how to pop out that fast." But soon her smile disappeared as Endora's cold stare fell on her. Hagatha placed a comforting arm around Mary, "Leave her alone, Endora. Serena gets her tough attitude and disregard for the rules from me, not Mary."

Endora's eyes were practically slits as she grumbled, "No…. that _imperfection_ was born like that."

()()()

"I always knew there was something wrong with that girl!"

"Phyllis-"

"Call it a mother's intuition, but I just knew it!"

"Now Phyllis-"

Mrs. Frank Stephens, Darrin's overprotective mother and Samantha's nosy mother-in-law paused from her pacing to tell her husband, "Frank, look at what she's done to Darrin! A recluse! Losing his house! Lost his job! All because of that… _**that**_ _Witch_!"

Frank Stephens looked at his wife, his eyes hardening, "Phyllis, all I've ever seen is how that girl loved Darrin and how he loved her back."

Phyllis shook her head, insistent on her stance on Samantha Stephens, "She's bad news, Frank. Her, and the whole lot of 'em! You know, I wouldn't even be surprised if sweet, little, old Aunt Clara was a mean old crone in disguise!"

Frank blinked in surprised, "Now hold on there, Phyllis. Aunt Clara seemed genuinely nice. Even Endora sometimes-"

At the mention of the witches name, Phyllis snapped, "Now don't you dare talk about that one! Her disguise wasn't even a disguise! I saw through all that guile in charm the moment I met that harpy!" She then straightened up her black sweater and pearl necklace, attempting to look somewhat dignified, "I'm just upset that I couldn't find a way to warn Darrin."

"Warn me about what, ma?"

Both Frank and Phyllis turned around, stunned to see their only son. He was hunched over, a stubble on his chin, his clothes wrinkled and disheveled. His eyes were red-rimmed, and his stringy hair was flopping all over his face, but there he stood, Darrin Stephens.

"Darrin! What are you doing here?" Phyllis demanded, a look of concern over her face.

Darrin shot her a strange look before saying slowly, "Ma, you do realize you and pop are on my doorstep, right?"

Frank swallowed down the lump that was in his throat. It is true, he and Phyllis were about to knock at the front door, but he wanted to settle down his wife before they saw Darrin. Apparently, that didn't happen. He stepped forward, a fake smile plastered on his face, "You look better than expected, son!"

Darrin didn't quite believe him, but he played along, "I was tending to Samantha's flowers in the back. I heard a commotion. I thought it was vandalizers again…"

At that moment, Phyllis caught sight of the baseball bat Darrin was slowly placing behind his back.

"Oh Darrin…" she said sadly, "Look at what that evil girl has done to you!"

Darrin shot his mother a glare, before Frank forced a laugh, "Vandalizers, huh? What do they write down? 'I was here', huh?"

Darrin glanced at his red painted brick, glad that the harsh words were covered so his parents wouldn't have to read the stuff the people took upon themselves to write on his home. He then shrugged, "It doesn't matter." He then looked up at his father, "I have some coffee. It's cheap, and I can't make it as good as Samantha, but its there."

Frank placed an arm around his son, his fake smile broader than ever, "That's real good! Sounds great, what do you think, Phyllis?"

As Darrin led his father inside his home after a brief fumble with his keys, Phyllis murmured under her breath, "You don't even _want_ to know what I think."

()()()

Instantly, Serena and Samantha appeared amongst a waterfall with light fog surrounding it. However, instead of going down as most waterfalls do, the water was going up. It was going up, up, up, and into the nothingness as vast as space itself.

At their sides, tiny flecks of red spread everywhere before regrouping, and spreading out again.

Samantha blinked, "What is this place?"

"Another part of this dimension, far from the clouds where the other witches reside." Serena answered.

Both witches were floating above and next to the water, and though they were in air, the simulated swimming, with their arms moving, legs kicking.

"Serena, I can't- it feels like we are _in_ water but I _know_ we're not." Samantha struggled, her eyes prickling.

"Relax a little. It's like quicksand in a way. The more you struggle, the more it will pull you in."

"Pull me into what?"

"Don't look down!" Serena chanted in a sing-songy voice.

Instantly, Sam did. She nearly panicked, for below them, were dark matter crystals, shimmering and glistening under the water the tips of her slippers were grazing.

With all her struggling, one of her slippers fell into the clear water and was soon taken upwards by the upside down waterfall.

"Woah! I said relax, cousin." Serena laughed, holding her arms out to calm down Samantha.

Sam snapped at her, "Serena, you know I can't survive dark matter!"

"I think you can." Serena said quietly, her hands resting themselves on Samantha's shoulders, "But you need to relax. Don't get so uptight, and you'll live."

"How can I not get uptight?! Do you know what their planning back on the clouds?!" Samantha shrieked, her voice dripping in panic, "To slaughter my Darrin and the rest of the mortals!"

"I know." Serena spoke. On her left cheek, was a mark. It was an ever changing mole that Endora marked her with when she was young, as a means to be a tell-tale sign to help distinguish them. And right now, that very same mark was swirling from a tiny dot that resembled planet earth, to a tiny yin and yang sign.

That mark always could give away Serena's thoughts and feelings. And right now, Samantha had a feeling of what Serena wanted.

"It hurts." Serena croaked, "The Darkness calls to me, Samantha. You know that in times like this… I can't take it. Unlike all of you, I was never a human tempted by darkness. I was never born a witch. I am… an illusion. A fantastic one at that, but one just the same. An illusion created by-"

"Don't say it." Samantha closed her eyes, turning her head, "Please Serena, not now. I can't afford to lose you too. Not like how I'm losing everyone else."

Samantha tried her best to relax, and Serena was right, it helped a little. Only now she was weighed down by something more, the guilt in her heart.

Serna continued, her features softening, "Do you remember how I was created?"

Samantha looked up, slowly nodding, "I broke witch protocol, and went somewhere I was not meant to be."

"All witches have a reflection in dark matter…"

"-Except us." Samantha finished.

"Because," Serena nodded, and once again, Samantha finished, "we are the reflection of one another."

"We are one." Serena said, a hint of finality in her tone.

"We are one." Samantha agreed. Both bowed their heads until their foreheads touched. Their memories blended, their emotions began to run together, like a river with a single current.

Serena spoke, "I know Endora is uncomfortable with my existence, but I do owe it to you, Samantha. If you were not as good and pure as you are, I could have been much worse."

"I doubt mother would agree." Samantha offered, "But I do hear that dark matter reflections are twisted versions of their original."

"You are my original." Serena smiled, "I am always honored."

"I wonder how mother's dark matter copy is." Samantha mused, a slow, calming peace going through her.

"Pray we never find out." Serena chuckled before turning to what she felt were more important matters, "Samantha, the dark matter, you do know that The Darkness created it, right?"

Samantha turned her eyes to her, but never disconnected the touch of their foreheads.

"I didn't know that. Why hasn't anyone mentioned that before?"

"Because," Serena smirked, "they don't know. As I am from it, I have special insight about it. Now, the darkness created it as a means to kill off the witches in case they ever became too powerful. It spread it all across the earth, even to other dimensions and planes such as the pool we are hovering above now. And The Darkness hoped that man would find it and realize what it was for. And of course, he did."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"As I am from the dark matter, it whispers to me. I know, for a fact, that the mortals have right now, in their possession, large quantities of it. If we go back, we will be flying right toward our deaths."

"What do we do, Serena?" Samantha's stomach flopped, nerves shooting out in every direction. It was so bad, her throat burned a bit as she swallowed her own vomit.

Serena closed her eyes, in pain, "Please Samantha, your love for your mortal and child is very warming and welcomed, but don't switch emotions that fast! I nearly threw up."

"Sorry, but I'm so… scared of all this. I've never been put in a situation like this before." Sam apologized.

"Neither have I." Serena responded honestly, "I am a bit surprised that the other witches succumbed to The Darkness at such an alarming rate. I honestly thought I would've been the first to praise it, sing the chant of elders, and turn. After all, I am of dark matter."

"I'm not that surprised." Samantha looked down, a ghost of a smile on her lips. Serena looked up, puzzled as Sam continued, "After all, you were created as my reflection, and I haven't succumbed."

Serena agreed, "A reflection of perfection. That's what Endora used to call me, anyhow."

"You are your own person, Serena." Samantha said quietly, pulling her forehead apart from her cousin, disconnecting their connection but never breaking it, "You may be a dark matter copy, but you are not an illusion. You are a fine witch in your own right, raised by two of the finest witches I know. And if there was ever a time I needed you the most, it is now."

"I told the council that the mortals possess the dark matter." Serena blurted.

Samantha blinked, "You did? Why would you-? Now they'll want to attack them more than ever! Why would you do that?!"

"Because," Serena said slowly, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "that way _I_ become their first line of defense. And the best part, Endora is completely unaware of it."

Sam eyed her cousin, "What do you have in mind, cousin?"

Serena cocked her head to one side, mirroring Samantha's expression perfectly, "Just a little smudge of an idea, cousin."

At the exact same time, they smiled.

()()()

For the past half hour Darrin had to endure his mother's ranting about how she knew Samantha was bad for him right from the get go. How all witches were bad. And Darrin, sitting quietly on the couch, finally spoke, "Does that apply to Tabitha?"

Phyllis's eyebrows furrowed, "Tabitha?"

"Yes," Darrin began shaking his head almost comically as he set down his shaking coffee cup on the coffee table, "Your granddaughter. My daughter. Tabitha Ann Stephens. Remember her? Cute girl, short as a dumpling, her mother's hair, her mother's eyes, her mother's _twitch_!" As he spoke his voice grew louder and harsher. He then rose to his feet, Frank placing an arm around his wife, "Now Darrin, you need to settle down, son! You know how your mother gets-"

Darrin shouted, pointing at his mother, "Don't defend her actions!"

"She's done it." Phyllis whispered, "That witch turned my own son against me!"

"You did that yourself! Tabitha and Sam are my family!"

Phyllis instantly slunk to Frank's shoulder, placing the back of her hand on her forehead, swaying dramatically, "Oh Frank! I think I'm getting a sick headache!"

"Darrin, look at what you're doing to your mother!" Frank snapped.

"She's crazy if she thinks Sam is anything but-" The doorbell soon rang, cutting Darrin off. He instantly turned to it, his eyes popping out of his skull as he whispered, "They're here again."

"Who?" Frank demanded.

Darrin turned to him, "The FBI! The CIA! The cops! You name it, they come, and they force themselves into my house and violate my rights as a descent American! They throw around my life like if it means nothing! All because they think I have information on Sam but I don't! Their guess is as good as mine and I'm sick of it!"

Darrin turned to his door, shouting at the top of his lungs, "I just want everyone to leave me alone!" He swung his door open, and paused.

There stood one man, in his early thirties, in an Army Service uniform.

The man nodded, "Darrin, settle down. The whole neighborhood can hear you, and rest assured, I'm here to help."

Darrin's stomach instantly clenched. He had a rotten feeling about this.

Before Darrin could say anything, the man pushed himself inside, and looked directly at Frank, "Have you offered to help him keep his home?"

Frank shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head, "We haven't even gotten that far, Neil. Darrin just started yelling for no reason."

"No reason?!" Darrin shouted incredulously, "Am I the only one who sees how nuts everyone is?!"

"Now Darrin," Frank offered, getting to his feet, and talking slowly as if his son was slow in comprehension, "You are surrounded by people who love you. Now, Sam was great girl, and Tabitha is wonderful, but let's be realistic here son- they're witches. With one point of their little finger, they can kill us. Suppose they suddenly decide to wipe us out? We need to take necessary precautions to stop that, and your cousin Neil here is more than willing to help. Neil my boy, talk to your cousin about this."

Darrin turned to the younger man currently in his living room, confused, "Neil? I thought… last I knew about you, you were in college! Football scholarship-"

The man took off his cap and tucked it under his arm, revealing tight, curly red hair, "I stopped all that nonsense, Darrin. I am now a proud member of the United States Army, as you were once. I am appealing to that side of you to help aid your country against the witches."

Darrin stared at him, "You-you are joking, right?"

"I wish I were, Darrin, but the situation at hand is critical." Neil continued, clicking his heels and pacing the room as if he were marching in a platoon of one, complete with flanks and about faces as he explained about witches satanic origins, their evilness, their history, and something Darrin had never heard of before but was practiced extensively in Europe- Dark Matter weapons, used to maim and kill witches. Neil explained that it was needed, as witches could even survive extreme flooding and burnings at the stake.

He then ended his speech by rounding on Darrin, his young looking face stern, "Now Darrin, no one blames you for falling into the trap of this Samantha witch, but we- your _ **real**_ family, such as myself, your father, and mother, and your beloved country- would be extremely disappointed if you bowed out on us now, in this hour of need. So, what do you say cousin? Are you ready to do the right thing?"

Darrin turned to his father, "Pop, you see how nuts this is, right?"

"Sam's nice," Frank conceded, "And most of her family is too, but you gotta be careful about these things, Darrin. I was sort of hoping Neil here, and the United States military could come up with a way to make this dark matter stuff a jail or something. Y'know, just to house the witches separately until we take away their powers. Then, we can release them back into the world, and everyone will be happy."

"Take away their powers?" Darrin repeated, dumbfounded, "I don't even think that's possible! And if you can't find a way?! Then what? Exterminate them?!"

Neil shrugged uncaringly, dusting off his cap, "We'll see, when we cross that bridge."

Darrin slowly growled at his younger cousin, "Get out. Get out of my house."

Neil looked up, "No."

"What did you say to me?!" Darrin demanded.

Neil said slowly, "I said 'no', Darrin. Mahler and Rodriguez are no longer your handlers, _I_ am. And right now, I don't think you should be left alone. See, I think that witch you married thinks of you as nothing more than a beloved pet. And a good master always comes back for their pet."

Darrin was shocked.

From behind him, he heard his mother's voice, "Listen to Neil, Darrin. He's a good boy. Was in the boy scouts, was All-American." And then he heard his father's voice, "And besides son, with all the stress you've been under lately, maybe your brains a bit scrambled at the moment."

Darrin turned to his parents, his dark eyes now suspicious at their motives, "Ma? Pop? Why are you here?"

"We want to help you, Darrin." Phyllis smiled.

Frank agreed, "We wanted to assure you that we'll look after the house while you're gone."

"Where am I going?" Darrin dared ask.

Neil placed a hand on Darrin's shoulder, flashing his straight, yellow teeth, "St. Peter's psychiatric hospital. It's in our home state of Missouri. And you know what that means, don't you?"

Darrin remembered that saying he and his family used to joke around in get-together's. He even said it to Sam on their honeymoon when she first confessed she was a witch and he thought she was half crazy. Slowly, he said, "Show me."

Cousin Neil squeezed Darrin's shoulder, "That's a good lad, you remembered our old family saying!"

Darrin felt his legs go weak, his arms numb for when he looked up to see his parents, both had genuine smiles of appreciation for Cousin Neil.


End file.
